


talk about the weather (or how the weather used to be)

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: (i mean you know who i am), Can be read as pre-slash, Gen, Mentions of canon character death, past Arrell/Alyosha, spoilers for SiH34 (not the big thing at the end)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 18:37:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19431805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Alyosha gets a repeat visitor.





	talk about the weather (or how the weather used to be)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to maddie, for betaing
> 
> title from 'plea from a cat named virtue' by the weakerthans, which is a very fero song imo

The forge is solitary work, although Alyosha is used to is now. He focuses his whole being on the movement of his body, bringing the hammer down again and again, new life sprouting under his blows. He’s come to think of it as almost meditative, his mind floating as his body works below him, creating.

“Uh, hi?” says a voice, “Hey.”

Alyosha looks up, though he continues to work. It’s the halfling who visited earlier with Ephrim, though Ephrim is now nowhere to be seen this time.

“Hello Fero,” says Alyosha.

“Hi,” says Fero again.

Fero looks around at the forge, still kept a little away from where Alyosha is by the distance of the strata. He bends, looking curiously at the plants, then nods. He looks more comfortable than he did on his last visit, too twitchy to seem completely at ease, but as though he knows the terrain, moving with something like purpose.

“How did…” Alyosha gathers himself on a hammer swing, begins again. “Did Ephrim guide you here? Where is he?”

Fero shrugs. “I dunno, doing  _ Lord _ stuff. I didn’t ask him.”

Alyosha blinks.

_ Whoosh, clink. _

“Then how is it that you found your way here?”

Fero waves a hand. “I asked the tree to let me in.”

“I- ah. Yes. You said you spoke to them.”

“Yeah,” says Fero. “It’s way easier now that I can understand what they’re saying. They seem less like, aggressive and more-” his hands flutter, like he’s trying to pluck the word he’s searching for from the air, “more enthusiastic.”

Alyosha smiles. “Well that is good.”

Fero rocks back and forth on his heels for a moment. Alyosha waits, and works.

“Did you make them like that?”

“Enthusiastic?” says Alyosha, “I suppose. Although at the time I don’t believe I thought of plants as having an emotional life in that way.”

Fero goes still for a moment, before he’s back to fidgeting again. “Yeah. I guess you wouldn’t. Anyway. Bye, I guess.”

“Goodbye Fero.”

_ Whoosh, clink _ .

  
  


It’s difficult to tell how much time is passing in Hieron as he works. It’s never been entirely clear how time works on the strata the forge is on, or if time works there at all. Perhaps, Alyosha thinks, it exists in all at once, a fascinating concept on a theological level-

His throat aches sharply. He still cannot quite think about things like that, the line of arguments, the preparation of a debate back and forth, without thinking of what Arrelll would say to counter his points, the long-forgotten thrill of it.

The letter sits in the front of his robes, read and reread until he knows the words by heart. It’s only paper, yet Alyosha can feel the heavy weight of it as he moves.

His arm pauses in it’s work, and Alyosha shakes himself.  _ Whoosh, clink _ .

  
  


Fero comes back a few times after that. 

He usually begins with a question about the Spring and then lingers, staying longer each time. It’s strange to have such casual company after so long alone. Alyosha finds that he is not as good of a conversationalist as he used to be, though Fero’s doesn’t seem to mind. The sound of work fades to the background under his voice as he chatters to Alyosha about nothing in particular, passing on gossip from the University and the animal kingdom. Alyosha had no idea that birds had so much drama going on.

They don’t talk about Arrell, or the letter. Alyosha wonders if Fero notices the topics absence as much as he does. He’s not sure that he  _ wants _ to talk about it, really. In a way, it’s nice to have a small break from thinking of him.

Alyosha had worried, at the beginning, that Fero’s curiosity about the plants came from a desire to fight them, to destroy them. If that was the case, he didn’t seem to be asking the right question: wanting to know why this colour for this flower, why shape the leaves like this, did all the plants from the forge  _ like  _ each other?

Alyosha laughs.

Fero laughs too, but he looks at Alyosha as expectantly as ever. “But  _ do _ they?”

Alyosha thinks for a moment. He tries to feel as the plants do, something he’s be attempting more and more since Fero began visiting.

“I think…” says Alyosha slowly, “I think they’re like a family. They mostly like each other, but some more than others.”

Fero nods, taking Alyosha’s words with the gravity of someone receiving a sermon. Alyosha has given many speeches and sermons in his life, to people of all types and all levels in interest in what he was saying. Fero is a strange one, disregarding anything that remotely sounds like advice but taking serious note of things like this, things Alyosha makes up himself on the spot.

It’s an odd feeling, to have such weight put on his light words.

Fero fidgets, tangling his fingers for a moment in the vines that cover the forge floor. They won’t harm him here, like they would out in the world, and he seems to take comfort from being able to get so close to them, speaking to them in his own way.

“Sorry,” says Fero, his voice sounding loud after so long a pause, “about not wanting to give you the letter.”

Alyosha blinks, the rhythm of his hammer thrown off for a moment. “I- Are you?”

“Well. I’m sorry about the part of it that hurt  _ you _ . I still kind of think Ephrim should have just thrown the letter out, I mean, if Arrell wanted you to have it he should have sent it. I don’t see why we should have to do errands for a guy who tried to kill us.”

Alyosha lets out a long breath.

“I mean-” Fero’s hands flutter, “you know. Sorry, I just- Sorry.”

He makes a face, looking down at the vines.

Alyosha swallows. “It’s- I understand. You…” He sighs. “I cannot expect the world to remember him as I do.”

Fero is quiet for a long moment. “Was he ever  _ actually _ nice?”

Alyosha thinks for a moment, to a thousand tiny moments, a blanket draped over his shoulder as he slept, a hot cup of tea brought to him, a rare, sleepy smile.

“No,” says Alyosha, “but he was kind.”

Fero nods. He trails his hands through the vines. They shiver, reaching for him. The plants that live in the forge have come to warm to him, since he’s been visiting.

“Then I’m sorry for that too,” says Fero. “That he couldn’t have stayed kind.”

Alypsha’s throat aches. “Thank you.”

  
  


After Fero leaves, Alyosha finds a new plant. It feels like one of his, full of energy and life from the forge, but it moves differently, curling around the other plants. The other plants in the forge don’t seem to mind, letting the new growth tangle with them.

Alyosha peers at it under the lamplight. The small, green leaves are a little like clover, delicate-looking but hardy enough to thrive in the forge. As he reaches out a hand to touch it, it reaches right back, tangling around his fingers.

He can hear it now, or near enough to hearing, the plant’s chatter a strange buzzing in the back of his head, bright like a shout, like laughter. A feeling of calm washes over him, as though he were lying in his own bed back in his own little cottage. Alyosha feels as though he can almost hear the morning birdsong in the trees outside, the feeling of a new day laying in front of him.

He pulls back and the plant lets him go, easily, waving its leaves and it turns to curl around the closest other plant. The feeling disappears, leaving wisps of calm behind.

Something to keep an eye on, perhaps.

  
  


“Hi, hey,” comes a voice, “me again.”

Fero stands in the same spot he has been on his earlier visits, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“The tree let me in,” says Fero.

Alyosha nods.  _ Whoosh, clink _ .

“I had a question,” says Fero, ”about the plants.”

Alyosha waits, and works.

“Do they like music?”

It’s enough to almost make him pause his hammer. “Music?”

“Yeah,” says Fero, “do they like music?”

“I… I don’t know,” says Alyosha. “Why, is this your latest plan to stop them?”

“Nah,” says Fero, “I was just- so Samol gave Lem his guitar, and Lem said he’d teach me to play it, and I thought, hey, better check this doesn’t piss off these plants, like, I don’t want them pulling the University down because they’re not fans.”

Alyosha huffs a laugh. “I see. I don’t believe music will have that reaction, although if you’re so concerned as to come all the way down here, perhaps you should ask them.”

Fero frowns. “You can’t talk to them?”

“Not like you can.”

“Why would you make something and then not talk to it?” says Fero, “Don’t you want to tell them, like-like-like! Just explaining what they can do and why you made them! Don’t you think you owe them that?”

“They seem to be doing just fine without me guidance.”

“Yeah but you don’t know that!” says Fero, “Maybe they’re not working in your like,  _ ideal _ way because you never actually  _ told _ them what they are! I mean, how can you just  _ do _ that, just send someone out into the world and expect them to do what you want without ever even  _ telling  _ you?”

Fero’s voice cracks on the last word. He’s panting, anger and pain coming off him in waves. The plants around him shudder.

“I… didn’t know it was hurting the plants so much,” says Alyosha carefully.

Fero blinks. “I- it might be, I don’t know, but it’s like… you should think about it. Not everyone just  _ knows _ what they’re supposed to- whatever.”

He leaves without saying goodbye.

  
  


The clover keeps growing. It tangles with the other plants of the forge, spreading over the floor and crawling up the walls, into other strata. It curls around Alyosha’s ankle the way an affectionate cat might, its stems warm through Alyosha’s robes. He reaches out to touch it, and as it twines around his fingers, he can hear the distant sound of a guitar.

Fero doesn’t visit again for a long time. It’s difficult to tell in the forge. Perhaps it only feels like a long time to work in silence, now that Alyosha is used to his conversation.

He tries to listen to the plants - after all, he doesn’t want to hurt them - but they seem as passively-happy as ever, reaching and searching and  _ growing _ . They carry the new clover with them, sending its strange music out through the strata. More than that, it sends back feelings, sensations Alyosha had long since forgotten. Warm sunlight and cool rain, the feeling of someone’s hand running along his side, the background burble of people in a marketplace.

He stops work, just for a few moments, to listen.

  
  


Eventually though, Fero returns. It happens without fanfare - Alyosha looks up and he’s there, sitting cross-legged on the ground.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” says Alyosha, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Fero shrugs. “Safewater said I should come.”

Alyosha frowns. “Safewater…?”

A small bird wriggles out from Fero’s collar, hopping from his collarbone to his shoulder to his head.

Fero points to the bird. “Safewater.”

The bird chirps in response, a trilling, sweet sound. The plants of the forge rustle, wriggling. It takes Alyosha a moment to place their feeling.

_ Delight _ .

Alyosha nods in greeting, and the little bird fluffs its feathers, puffing out its chest. It chirps another short song.

Fero makes a face. “Yeah,  _ okay _ .” He clears his throat. “I wanted to, uh- I shouldn’t have yelled at you, before. The plants like you. I don’t think I like,  _ agree _ with their whole-” he waves a hand, “-thing, but you’re not like- you  _ are  _ telling them what they need to know.”

Alyosha blinks. “I… thank you.” He pauses. “I have been trying to speak to them.”

Fero blinks, his face breaking into a grin. “Really?”

“Yes,” says Alyosha, “I’m not sure I can understand them as clearly as you, but… I think I am getting there.”

“That’s great!” says Fero.

The new clover snakes around Fero’s ankle, drawing his attention. His face lights up, and he strokes along its leaves as though it were a cat.

“Hey buddy,” says Fero, “What are you doing all the way down here?”

“It comes from here,” says Alyosha, “Do you- I didn’t think you would be that familiar with it. It’s new.”

“Yeah, it started showing up in the University a few weeks ago,” says Fero, “it’s like… it forms this barrier, sort of, between the other plants and us, or their pollen, or something. Rosana and some other people are still trying to figure it out. People... stopped getting sick from the Spring since it’s been around.”

The clover twines around him as he speaks, it’s leaves shaking. Alyosha can feel the warmth of Fero’s skin on his palms where Fero is touching the vine. He readjusts his grip on the hammer, continuing work.

_ Whoosh, clink. _

Clover sprouts under his hammer, soft and kind and new. It trails out, curling around his ankle before it heads towards Fero. Fero holds out a hand, letting the new vines wrap around his fingers. He looks back up to Alyosha.

“I thought you said we couldn’t reach each other?”

Alyosha frowns. “We can’t.”

Fero tilts his head, looking back down at the plant. “But I can feel you.”

“What?”

“I can feel you,” says Fero, “through the plant.”

Alyosha feels a surge of it, spreading out from where the plant is curled around his leg - how Fero is tired and sun-warmed and happy to see him-

He drops the hammer.

“Oh,” breathes Alyosha, “that was  _ you _ .”

Fero laughs. “Yeah, I think so!”

He strokes along the vine, and Alyosha can feel the warmth of it. The plants of the forge tremble, and it takes Alyosha a moment to realise he’s trembling too.

“I didn’t think you were going to try anything new,” says Fero.

“Neither did I,” says Alyosha, “but it seems to have happened anyway.”

Fero smiles, soft and kind and beautiful as the new clover. “I like it!”

“You know,” says Alyosha, “I think I do too.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
